


Feel Me, Feel You

by aislingdoheanta



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Soul Bond, Soul Mate AU, alternating povs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 13:22:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2852300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingdoheanta/pseuds/aislingdoheanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire knew the instant they met. Enjolras needed a little more time. </p>
<p>Soul-Mate, Soul Bond AU where you share feelings with your soul mate(s).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feel Me, Feel You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AeroLuna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AeroLuna/gifts).



> Actual Prompt: I've always loved any sort of soul mate AU but those involving soul bonds are by far my favorite. Whether you can perceive your soul mate's thoughts or if it's something more vague like feelings. I feel it would be interesting to see how the feelings from the bond may not align with how you perceive a person (like how R is so cynical but admires the hope he sees in the others) and make it difficult to recognize who they are even when they're right under your nose.
> 
> I hope you like it!

Grantaire doesn’t remember the first time he felt his soul-mate. After meeting Enjolras he liked to imagine that he had felt the moment Enjolras entered the world because if any child was going to throw a fit about it, it was going to be Enjolras.

As it stands, he doesn’t remember exactly when it started or when he became aware of it. He can only remember the feelings, the _passion._

Growing up, Grantaire hadn’t often given his soul-mate a lot of thought. It wasn’t the strictest society where you were forced to marry the person you were soul-bonded with, even if you weren’t interested or attracted—romantically or sexually. And with all the recent research about the people who have multiple cases of soul-bonds it was getting harder and harder to police, though some countries continued to try.

The only times Grantaire was really aware of his soul-mate were when he became overwhelmed by them. They were full of passion and rebellion and just felt like they burned like a dying star and Grantaire didn’t know what to do with that.

He also wasn’t sure what to do with the fear that he’d never run across his soul-mate in person. What if he was just destined to love them from afar? What if he was only meant to be connected to them but never really knowing them?

As he became a teenager, he started worrying about actually _meeting_ his soul-mate and then they wouldn’t want him, that he wouldn’t be enough for them. After all, what could he really offer a person who was so clearly invested and invigorated with life? It’s not like Grantaire cared all that much about the world because he knew that change was futile and he wasn’t naïve enough to think that he’d actually be able to implement anything.

Grantaire had a hard enough time changing his own habits, let alone anyone else’s.

It was times like that when the insecurity and loneliness became a little too much to handle completely sober. (He wasn’t proud of his coping mechanism but it suited him just fine.) (Sort of)

Then he started university and was still wondering about his soul-mate. He started thinking that there was no way they were as passionate as they were. No one could be that passionate, could care that much all the time. Their passion was almost constant; it was exhausting for Grantaire. He couldn’t imagine actually living it.

He was fairly convinced that his soul-mate feeling wasn’t actually a soul bond at all until he met Them. Technically he didn’t meet him so much as catch sight and sound on him and felt like the world had righted itself.

He stood there, at the front of the classroom, debating with the professor about the fundamental basis of a democracy and Grantaire was _transfixed._ He was feeling those passionate, invigorated feelings for real and they were so intense. Years ago he once described the feelings as though he was burning like a dying star. It was so much more than that. He was the sun and was flying directly into it, into him.

He couldn’t find it in himself to complain.

“Democracy will never work. It’s a convoluted ideal that always leads to an oligarchy that needs to be overthrown,” Grantaire stated. He never said he couldn’t complain about his argument.

The man turned to him, long blonde hair and bright blue eyes staring at him. “Democracy does work when it’s done correctly.”

“It never is and never will be,” Grantaire argued.

“Yes it will!” He argued.

“Not as long as people are power hungry and greedy. And people will always be power hungry as long as they’re in existence,” Grantaire said.

“Enjolras, why don’t you discuss this with Grantaire here?” Professor Lamarque suggested.

“I actually can’t stay, unfortunately,” Grantaire said pulling out his paper. “I was just getting you my latest addition to my thesis.”

“You study Political Science?” Enjolras asked him.

Grantaire laughed and shook his head. “No. I’m an Art and Philosophy guy.”

Lamarque glanced over the paper before putting it in his briefcase. “I’ll look over this over the weekend and get some notes back to you next week. That all right?”

“Yeah. You know me, there’s never any rush with anything.” Grantaire smirked.

“Which is exactly your problem,” Lamarque said good-naturedly.

“And you love me anyway,” Grantaire said.

“I am afraid that I really must be going,” Lamarque told them. “Enjolras, I’ll be expecting your e-mail this weekend as well.”

 “Do you really believe that Democracy won’t work?” Enjorlas asked him as soon as Lamarque left them.

“Are you absolutely convinced that it will work?” Grantaire countered.

Enjolras didn’t respond, but Grantaire could feel the fizzling electricity crackling through him.

“I guess I’ll see you around.” He smiled at Enjolras before turning away.

“We have a meeting!” Enjolras called out after him.

“We do?” Grantaire questioned as Enjolras fell into step beside him.

“Well, my friends and I meet every week,” Enjolras said.

“Okay?” Grantaire frowned, the panicked edges of insecurity starting to wind through him.

“You should stop by some time,” Enjolras said.

“The guy who just argued with you about the state of democracy?” Grantaire asked. “You really want someone there who disagrees with you?”

“It’s always good to have other opinions,” Enjolras said. “Besides it’s not like we’re going to disagree on everything.”

Grantaire thought for a second. “When do you meet?”

Enjolras smiled and Grantaire felt relieved. “We meet Tuesdays at the Musain café around eight. Do you know where that is?”

Grantaire smirked and nodded. “Yeah. I know where it is.”

The hesitation was back. “You’ll come sometime?”

“I’ll try,” Grantaire said instead.

Of course, it wasn’t like it was too much of a burden to go and sit with people who became his friends, even if he argued with his soul-mate who had no idea he existed. It was still better than not knowing him before and Grantaire wouldn’t trade it for anything.

* * *

Enjolras had always been argumentative. He’d argue that he was just determined and had a clear vision of the future, but that would be proving the point.

He argued before he ever really knew what arguing was. He would argue with you just for the sake of arguing. He didn’t understand the idea of arguing with someone because you believed in the point you were trying to make until he was almost fourteen. Before then he just wanted to win.

It was also around the time he felt his first bond.

Combeferre transferred to his school and they became quick friends. As young boys, it was a little difficult to find someone who not only would be able but actually willing to discuss the different Kings and Queens of French history to determine their flaws. That quickly led to Enjolras breathing a massive sigh of relief that they were no longer a monarchy.

Combeferre was calm and gentle and felt like a soothing aloe to burned flesh. He was Enjolras’ equal in pretty much everything, including his temperament, though he was an opposite equal. Where Enjolras was rash, Combeferre was rational and patient. Where Enjolras was determined to do anything necessary to achieve their ends, Combeferre was there to direct him in a more suitable path.

It was obvious to everyone that they were meant to be soul-mates, after all they shared to bond as well.

However, it wasn’t obvious to them. They had recognized the bond early on but didn’t really talk about it until they were nearly eighteen. Neither of them felt any strong romantic or sexual desires for the other one. They were happy with just being a platonic soul-bond.

Other than Combeferre, Enjolras didn’t feel any other bonds until university. It didn’t really bother him growing up because he was always busy with his school work or research or arguments to really pay it much mind. Even after meeting Combeferre he didn’t think too much on the bond.

It wasn’t until the third meeting of the Amis that he started questioning the bonds, rather his apparent lack of a romantic one. He worried that maybe it meant his personality was just too difficult for someone to actually want to invest in. Maybe he was just meant to have platonic bonds. He wouldn’t be too upset by that because he wasn’t as interested or concerned with sex as his peers.

But romantic relationships are something he rather enjoyed—the one time he had one. As much as he got out of all his friendships, he sometimes felt like he was missing something (Especially whenever Marius would start talking about his Cosette).

To be honest he hated feeling that way because he knew that romantic love wasn’t the only love out there and it’s not even the only love that mattered and there was plenty of people who are aromantic who enjoy a fulfilling life with just their platonic relationships. He’d even advocated that. But it just always felt like he was betraying all that he stood for whenever those feelings of unworthiness would happen upon him.

Enjolras even had a bond with Courfeyrac, though it wasn’t as strong as Combeferre’s. And Enjolras still wasn’t sure if it was a true soul bond between them or if Courfeyrac was just so magnetic and infectious that Enjolras felt like there was a soul bond between them.

So between Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and the rest of his friends, Enjolras was fine.

Obviously the soul bond snuck up on him.

Enjolras was in the middle of one of his arguments with Grantaire when he felt this wonderful rush of admiration. It was so strong, so intense that his legs almost gave out.

Combeferre and Joly were there in an instant so he wasn’t entirely sure what they saw.

“Have you eaten today?” Joly demanded.

Enjolras couldn’t remember. And when he didn’t’ immediately respond, Joly decided to call the meeting to a close. Enjolras was too wrapped up in the fact that he finally felt something from his soul-mate that he didn’t care.

Combeferre escorted him home though the journey was quiet. It was Combeferre who broke the silence when they got to their place.

“What happened back there?” he asked quietly.

Enjolras smiled. “I felt them. My soul-mate.”

“Are you sure?” Combeferre asked gently. “It might have been just one of us.”

Enjolras shook his head. “It was too intense for that. It wasn’t like anything I’ve ever felt from you guys before.”

“What did you feel?” Combeferre asked him.

“Admiration,” Enjolras told him.

“So you’re going to try and find them?” Combeferre asked after a moment.

“Of course,” Enjolras said.

*****

Unfortunately, finding his soul-mate was a lot easier said than done. It wasn’t like his soul started getting warmer the closer he was to his new soul bond. And it wasn’t like his soul-mate really had a lot of interest in making themselves known.

Enjolras did wonder what they felt from him, if they even felt anything at all. Were they ever overwhelmed by his anger and frustrations? He hoped not because that would be unpleasant.

Weeks later and he still wasn’t any closer to finding his soul-mate. All he got were these strangely timed rushes of admiration and sometimes hope. Every so often it was tinged with disbelief or a sadness that Enjolras didn’t understand.

It was in the middle of one of Enjolras’ speeches that everything clicked. He was talking about the government just needing to get back on track and understanding what they really were hired for and how forcing them to acknowledge the negative thoughts on them and their actions might be all they need when he felt it, the admiration again.

He also caught sight of Grantaire shaking his head, with a fond smile on his face. Their eyes locked and Enjolras _knew._

“I don’t understand,” Enjolras said, completely forgetting that he was in the middle of a meeting.

“You don’t have to understand anything, Apollo,” Grantaire said sadly. “I don’t expect anything from you.”

With that he grabbed his stuff and started to make his way down the stairs in the back of the room. Enjolras wasn’t even aware of following Grantaire until he grabbed his arm in the stairwell.

Grantaire turned to look at him, his eyebrows raised in question.

“You knew,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire nodded. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Enjolras asked him.

Grantaire laughed sadly. “You wouldn’t have responded kindly to the resident drunken cynic proposing the fact that we have a soul-bond, that we might just be soul-mates.”

“I would have been surprised, but not annoyed or angry that it was you,” Enjolras said quietly, not looking at Grantaire. He hadn’t let go of his arm.

“You barely tolerate me as it is, Enjolras.”

“That’s not true,” Enjolras argued.

“Really?” Grantaire asked.

“I know that we argue and rarely agree on anything, but I still want you around. I like that we don’t often agree because you help me strengthen my arguments,” Enjolras said. “But I do actually like you.”

Grantaire stayed quiet.

“I wouldn’t be disappointed when you can’t make a meeting or sad when you were finishing your art project the other week and weren’t able to go out with all of us if I didn’t,” Enjolras said.

They were quiet until Enjolras spoke again, “How long have you known?”

Grantaire smiled hesitantly. “I knew it was you the minute we met.”

“How?”

“I felt your frustration that Lamarque wasn’t quite listening to your points and the passion you had for your opinions,” Grantaire explained. “It was more intense that I’d ever felt before and I just sort of couldn’t believe that I would be bonded with the most optimistic idealist in existence.”

“You’re not quite the cynic you claim to be,” Enjolras said. “I know that you admire what we do here.”

He worried that Grantaire would take offense to him bringing up his own private feelings, but Grantaire just grinned.

“There’s something admirable about someone who just keeps fighting, keeps believing in a positive future when they are constantly knocked down,” Grantaire grinned.

Enjolras was nervous for where this was going to go now. Does he ask Grantaire out on a date? What if he said no?

Grantaire reached out to grab his hand. “I hate when you feel this.”

“Feel what?” Enjolras asked, trying to keep his thoughts from whirling around.

“Insecure and nervous,” Grantaire said. “You shouldn’t have to feel like that.”

“You felt it?” Enjolras hoped he didn’t sound or feel too embarrassed.

“A little bit. I used to think it was just my own insecurities piling up, but it wasn’t until I recognized there was a pattern that I figured out it was sometimes you.” Grantaire squeezed his hand. “It’s still just me. There doesn’t have to be some ridiculous declaration of love and intent.”

“But I want to—“ Grantaire cut him off.

“Why don’t we start with coffee and see where this goes?” Grantaire asked him.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” Enjolras asked, biting his lip.

“Are you accepting?” Grantaire countered.

“Yes.” Enjolras grinned and squeezed Grantaire’s hand.


End file.
